and my heart breaks thinking about all the words we didn't say
by drunkendick
Summary: ' I'm Beth, she said. I'm going to change your world, he should have heard. ' Bethyl AU
1. the sun rises

There is something about Dostoyevsky that really grabs her heart and keeps her hooked. Maybe it is the dramatic way everything always ends, maybe it is the harsh truth, the hard reality that is thrown in her face. It is such an intertwining thing to think that the reality is still the same even though there are centuries between the two periods. But still, the world is cruel, people are awful and she is still sad. She glances at the scar on her wrist or at least the little white you can see under the bracelets she uses to hide it. She knows it is there and she wonders sometimes if she hides it from her view or from others'. The sound of the washing machine interrupts her thoughts and she looks up. It is finished but she still has to wait for it to dry. She sighs and goes back to her book. She knows it is going to end bad but she is hooked.

The door opens and for a second, she doesn't find it strange. But then, she comes to think. How strange is it, really, that someone would come do their laundry at one in the morning ? She feels her body tense, her knuckles a bit white on the book. She was sheltered all her life until a few months ago but still. It is difficult to see the view she had of the world from her father's farm collapses with the harsh reality where everybody is out to hurt their neighbor. She glances up and immediately looks down. So there is this guy inside who looks rough and like laundry isn't exactly on his list of priorities. Or even on his list of stuff to do. But he is there and apparently wants to wash his clothes. She isn't quick to judge but her stomach still tightens and she feels anxiety and fear creep up her neck. It isn't long since she is in town, isn't long since she is all alone with no one to call when she gets scared. There is no one but her and it is all so scary, making her weary of everything and everyone. She tries to cheer herself up sometimes, tries to see the good out of things but the world is just too hard and too scary sometimes. And she just ends up being scared.

Beth decides that she would not look at him anymore, if she keeps her eyes on the book, if she doesn't look at him anymore then maybe, maybe he would not get interested in talking to her, maybe she would be left alone. And to be honest, she discovers that she would rather be alone than have problems. Loneliness is sad but less hurtful than being buried under all kind of problems. It is all question of perspectives anyway. She closes her eyes as the washing machine makes another sound, she still has to take her clothes and put them in the dryer which means moving, which means making herself known. She tries to make herself look brave, she tries to look like a person you shouldn't mess with, she tries to look like Maggie. But as she stands up, she remembers that she only is stupid little Beth and she finds herself being awkward. She glances up at him, he was old, dirty, big and scary and she feels like a mouse next to him. Ridiculous.

There is not enough light in that room, not enough light at all and it is okay. There is a girl too, blonde and pale and she looks like she used to be bright. Maybe the light comes from her. The neon buzzes, makes some kind of noise as the light trembles. He has his clothes in hands and puts it in the machine. He isn't really sure how it works, goes here once or twice and even if he does not know how it works it seems as if his hands remembers since they are pushing buttons and putting pieces in. The machine makes a noise, water comes and he lights a cigarette. He knows that it makes no much of sense, knows it is some kind of forbidden to smoke in there but the pale girl won't say nothing. She stands though and he looks at her, wondering if she is coming to tell him to stop, to fucking get out and stop his shit.

The girl just goes to a machine and does her business and he drops his gaze. The floor is dirty and he shifts. Smoke fills his lungs and it feels like breathing. It is strange how those things happen, it is really strange indeed. Because for him, smoke is air, beating means family and a smile means problems. Because people smiling at him want something from him, it can only mean bad news. And why would someone smile at him anyway ? He has no idea how long he has to wait, for everything to be clean, for the machine to have finished its job. He passes a tired hand in his hair, it is getting too long and he toys with the idea of just shaving it. They keep silence which is a relief for him. He has no desire to speak whatsoever and apparently, the girl isn't going to start a conversation. He finds it strange since girls always seem to have something to say but the atmosphere is calm and silent. It isn't the kind he is used to bathe in since he never really knew calm and silence but as he has the occasion to know it now, he would enjoy the hell out of it.

There is a certain routine that started. They would both always be alone in the Laundromat. She would always been here first, her nose in a book in the middle of the night. They never speak but sometimes, he would look at her and she would look at him, a tentative smile on her lips. He sometimes answers with a nod, sometimes he just looks somewhere else. Once, he helps her pick up the pieces that escape her hand. A quiet thank you escapes her lips and that is the first time he had heard her voice. Her voice is little, soft and the girl looks like she was afraid to use it. She seems afraid of everything and its contrary, she looks like she has the weight of the world on her shoulders and is crumbling under it. He comes once a week, sometimes twice but never more. And the girl, the girl is always here and he wonders why. What is she doing that makes her need to go that often in there ?

"I'm Beth."

One day she says that. It might be a month since he saw her for the first time. Today isn't different of all the other days but she says that she is Beth and everything is spinning. He looks at her and he meets her now familiar blue eyes and he wonders what it means being Beth. What make this Beth like no other Beth ? he tilts his head, his name stumbling from his lips. He watches her because she's such a strange thing, all big eyes, blond locks and that innocence that she spits in his face. He blinks and all the light is gone. She's just a girl under the yellow light of neon in a dirty Laundromat. And she's looking at him with a little smile before going back to her book. That's all the words that she says, that's everything she says. I'm Beth she said, I'm going to change your world he should have heard.


	2. there's a crack in your games

**a/n** so I wanted to thank all of you for the follow and the favorites.  
and the guest who posted a review. I hope the chapter is alright  
and that you are all going to like it !

* * *

He throws the key on the table, closing the door behind him. He's tired but relaxed. It's always good to spend some time with Beth, she's peaceful, not bothering him with thousands of questions. He puts his now clean clothes in his closet, more throws them into it. He doesn't care about it being ironed or not, he's just damn tired. He lets himself fall on his back and closes his eyes. He's so freaking tired, his schedule is insane and he has no time for nothing. Merle only leaves debts behind him and it all falls on Daryl to pay. It's not fair but it's not like he has a choice. So he just shuts up and sucks it up. He works at the garage all day and at night, four nights by week, he dugs graves. His life is a real dream and he's physically exhausted. He still has the energy to toe off his boots and to get rid of his vest, shirt and pants. As soon as he's once more lying still on his bed, he falls into slumber.

The days all look the same to him, it's waking up at seven, put an overall on and drives to the garage. It's saying hello to his coworkers as he tries to make some coffee so as to wake up completely. Then he would have to work on bikes and cars, trying to not get annoyed at stupid costumers who think that he is their bitch. Then he would eat at some diner with his co-worker, a guy named Zach that never shuts up.

"You think Jimbo is all right in the head ?"

Daryl looks up from his plate at the boy with a raised eyebrow. Jim is one of their co-workers, some kind of loony who is always talking a bit crazy. The guy is nice but his eyes smell like crazy. He only shrugs, knowing Zach won't push for an answer. Everybody knows the man is insane, there's no need to talk about it all the way to Sunday.

"So ? you coming or what ?"

Of course. That's the discussion they have every fucking day. They would eat and at one moment, Zach would try to convince Daryl to go out on Saturday night. He shakes his head, gets back to his plate without even replying. There's no need, Zach will keep pestering him about it. But Daryl doesn't go out, doesn't go too much in bars because he's kind of a dick when he's drunk and he doesn't want trouble. So he tries to avoid getting drunk when people are involved. It smells like trouble. Just like Beth. And then he thinks about her and why he doesn't want to go out Saturday night. Because he has other plans. For the last month, Saturday is their thing. All the other days, he comes and goes, never on the same days but he comes every Saturday. And she's there. So yeah, maybe there's no alcohol, no music, no food but there's Beth and maybe it's enough for now. Maybe it's what he needs at midnight on a Saturday night. A blonde girl who used to shine and is now low, so low that she seems to be at his level.

"C'mon man you got a hot date I ain't knowin' abo't ?"

Daryl snorts, looking up at the man, telling him to shut up about it. But he knows Zach and he knows the man is just looking out for him, just wants Daryl to have some kind of fun. But he doesn't want to go out, doesn't want to do nothing. Except maybe sleep enough so he would quit feeling tired all the time.

"As if. Just don't wanna see yer stupid face. See it enough."

Zach makes a face, like he's asking Daryl if he's being serious, like Daryl just insulted him and a small smile pulls on the older man's lips. Zach is funny in his own way and he's a good distraction.

And as exciting as it sounds, they would be back to work until six. He has no time to go home so he would sweat his ass off from six and a half to midnight. And he has to admit, working in a cemetery at night was fucking creepy. But in his routine, two nights by week, he goes to the Laundromat and meets with Beth. After she asked for his name, they didn't talk all night.

* * *

But it's been another month and here and there, they're talking. He asks about her book and she talks with stars in her eyes about love, family. He sees a girl with dreams and boots so heavy that she can't fly. He sees a girl that can't stop dreaming, that can't stop being herself and can't hide her light even under all the dirt the world seems to have thrown at her. She's a bright lighthouse and those days, she's kind of the only thing he's looking forward. But then, there are the scars on his back, the way he flinches everytime she comes too close and he sighs. Because he knows, he knows he can't, he knows he won't ever be able to exchange more than a few words here and there, he won't ever be able to do more than listen to her voice.

She talks about hope and sometimes she says nothing, just smiles at him like she sees him and it's okay. Like she's shrugging all the ways he's fucked up. But he doesn't think much about it, doesn't want to. He has nothing to wash and he's not going to see her today. He lits a cigarette and sits at the window, watching the lights in the night. He wonders if Beth is there, he wonders what she does, why she's here. They never talk about personal stuff, he never says what his job is, what his age is, where he lives, why he comes here. She never says anything about why she's here, what's her last name or if she has siblings. They talk about little stuff, they talk about nothing and most of the time, they sit in silence. He likes it, likes how peaceful it is. It's like being by himself without feeling lonely.

He's got the same feeling, that peaceful feeling when he lets his fingers run on his guitar, when the little sounds come out. Most of the time he's way too exhausted to play but when he gets some time, when he's not digging graves until the night makes his eyes close, he plays. It's new for him, to be in his home and play without being afraid of Merle slamming open the door, without being afraid of his dad waking up. Because music is for pussies and Dixons ain't no pussies. He had learnt guitar with the one his ma had left behind, like a gift for him, like a little loophole from the madness she had definitively exited, leaving only fire and ashes in her trail. He had run his fingertips along the cords in the dark, hidden by the black sky, lighted by the stars. Music had saved him from going insane.

* * *

Soon it's his Beth time, his peace in the war. She's there and she says hello and she smiles and it's like she's burying her teeth in his heart the way his heartbeat quickens. He nods and he says something, though he can't exactly remember what it is. Nevertheless, a lit smoke is soon tucked between his lips and Beth is nervous. She's making the bracelets on her left arm turn around her wrist. He wants to ask why she's doing that, if the bracelets mean something or is it just crap that she puts on to look like a girl full of life. But he shuts up and keeps watching her struggle.

"I think we should go somewhere."

His eyebrows shot up a bit though he tries to keep calm. Go somewhere, she said. Yeah, sure, they should go somewhere but to do what ? because he doesn't know what to do. He never went somewhere with a girl and he has no idea what he's supposed to say. But then, her blue eyes catch his and there's this smile of hers, that smile that reassures him and makes him believe that she doesn't want to hurt him at all. He nods before taking a long drag on his smoke.

"Where d'ya wanna go ?"

He knows his voice is way too low, way too scratchy but there's nothing about it he can do. Except maybe stop smoking but smoking and seeing Beth are the only thing he does for himself. Just for himself. He keeps smoking because it makes him feel relax and forget about all the shit. And he sees Beth because, somehow, her smile makes him feel safe. And he's no used to feel safe. She's looking at him, glancing at him from under her eyelashes and he makes it look like he doesn't see it, like all he sees is the smoke of his cigarette.

"Maybe eat something."

She shrugs, like it's no big deal where he knows it's somehow big for him. He's relieved that he has the cigarette lit before she talked. Otherwise, his palms would be so sweaty by now. She makes him nervous like hell, makes his stomach jump everywhere like he's going to throw up. He nods, once more, he can eat with her, he can do that. There'll be a table between them, he doesn't know what changes between being with her at the Laundromat or being in a dinner to eat. But then, he thinks there might be people, that people will see him with Beth and everything is jumping at his face. The fact that he looks like an old man and that she looks like a teenager, that she's all proper and bright where he's always dirty and scowling. He hates people looking at him, hates to see the judgment in their eyes. He had moved from his birthplace to start all new. Sure there was Merle who moved with him but still, they moved on the other side of Georgia so nobody would know them. And then Merle lost all their money in drugs and deals, put a price on his head and flew town, leaving Daryl with so much debts he didn't know what to do with it. But Daryl found two jobs and was slowly starting to give everybody their money back. He was starting fresh, slowly. He was building a new life for himself, a respectable one.

He can't stand to see them look at him like he's a freaking freak again. He can't live through that again. But he doesn't want to hurt Beth, doesn't want her to think he doesn't want to eat with her or anything. But maybe, they can eat here, maybe just maybe, once, luck can be on his side. Just once. But he knows, he knows that luck never likes him quite much and he knows he can't rely on it. Can't rely on anyone for anything, never did. And it's time for him to admit it, Beth is one of the best things that happened to him. He grits his teeth, looking at her as he takes another drag.

"When ?"

She seems to think, takes the wet clothes out of the washing machine before putting it in the dryer. The pieces slowly get eaten by the machine, she's taking her time and he wonders if she's afraid to say something or if it's just that she's taking her time thinking. He thinks of Beth as his friend but not like Zach is his friend, not like Carol, not like Tony is his friend. She's special somehow but he doesn't really know why, he never really had a friend like her before. She's his first Beth and he still doesn't quite know what it means to be Beth. He has some sort of ideas now, he knows it means to be kind, to have a soft smile and secrets stuck in the back of your eyes. He knows it means to be brave even when you're scared, it means that you have dreams filling your head and that you like to read dusty books. It means that you're playing with your bracelets when you have something on your mind and that yellow is your favorite color. He knows it means that you walk softly, your body almost weightless, it means also being his friend and he wonders if Beth knows what it means to be Beth.

"I don't know. When you can."

Then she takes a paper and writes on it and he wonders what she's doing, the smoke nearly forgotten between his fingers. But then, she walks toward him and hands him the paper. A line of numbers is written and he can't help but find it pretty. He must look confused because she looks slightly amused when he looks up at her.

"Let me know when you have a bit of time."

He nods. Once more. Like the idiot he is and finds himself silent again. He looks back on the number, taking another drag of his cigarette before putting the paper in his back pocket. He looks at her as she sits, another dusty book open on her laps. She reads as if nothing happened, as if he wasn't on the edge of falling like an idiot. She's making his world spin without a care in the world and it's so scary but he nods all the same, he keeps nodding because he can't say no. And he doesn't want to. And maybe today, maybe today is another brick he adds to that life he's building for himself.


	3. intertwined insecurities

**a/n** hey guys. thank you for the follows and the favorites. I wanted  
to thank the people who let the reviews as well as the guest.  
Gareth is a gift for Zen who beta this fic. Hope you will all enjoy.

* * *

She wakes up in a cold sweat, her fists tight around the bed sheets. There are those memories that eat away the sleep, leaving her awake for hours in the middle of the night. There are all those fears fighting inside her that make her anxiety awake and her eyes open. After too many nights doing nothing in her bed, she had decided to use her time awake to do something. And that's why she spent her night in the Laundromat. She doesn't regret it, she may even be thankful for it. Because it brings her Daryl and it's the only friend she has succeeded to make in town. She's not here since long, four months more or less and she has difficulties to trust. She's not bright Beth anymore, she lost too much, she was hurt too much to trust again. But she still has hope, hope that everything will be alright again, hope that God has a plan for her. But for now, she's all alone in the city with no one but Daryl. That's where she lies though. There's the man who lives next to her with his two kids, he's a good man and sometimes, when he's on duty, Beth babysits the kids for him. She washes their clothes too.

Rick had lost his wife five months ago as she gave birth to their daughter Judith. Beth had moved in a month later and some days later, she had stumbled on the man with the two kids. The baby was screaming and Carl looked like he would like to kill everyone just with his gaze. And Rick, poor Rick looked like he hadn't slept in years. He was a mess. So Beth had smiled, offered to take the baby as the man was fighting with grocery bags and the door. He had thanked her profusely and she had offered to babysit the baby when he needed. Rick was a police officer and worked sometimes at night. Beth usually babysits both of the kid except when Carl goes sleep over some friend. Tonight, there's only Judith to babysit and Beth needs to be ready. She looks at the clock. Five. She knows she won't get any more shut eyes so she decides to move. Being lazy doesn't bring anything. Her shift starts in three hours anyway so better be ready. She takes a shower, trying to get away from the nightmares, more the memories. It's sticking to her skin, to the sweat covering her flesh. She can't ever forget and it's playing tricks on her mind under the cover of the night.

* * *

She likes where she works. It's maybe one of the only perks in leaving the farm and going to the city. She works in a record store where they sell old vinyls. She stays here all day, talks to people who are passionate about music just like she is. Sometimes, Gareth lets her put some music on and it's like magic. There's not a lot of people coming though, vinyls are over, people are all about immaterial music. She finds it quite sad, the sound isn't the same, it doesn't feel as real. And one day, one day, she'll be a musician, maybe not a popular one, maybe not someone important. Maybe she'll just sing the chorus for rockstars but still, her voice will be on a vinyl and it will be on Earth forever. Her voice will be recorded and everybody will know that she exists. That she had existed. And maybe she's crazy, well she did go in a psychiatric hospital for a while but that's beside the point. She trusts her gift from God, she trusts God and maybe, maybe Daryl isn't on her path just to help her with the anxiety. Maybe they're meant for so much more.

"Hey Beth, you mind being alone for one hour or two ?"

That's Gareth. He's thirty-two, quite handsome if she has to give her opinion. He's nice to her and she will always be thankful for the chance he gave her because she never could have survived without this job. She isn't sure how he's making money because she's clearly paid too much according how much they sell. But she doesn't complain because she needs the money. Gareth is nice enough to let her play guitar sometimes too. For that, she's thankful. She's afraid that, if she wasn't playing at the shop. She would never get to play.

"Not at all. Though I wouldn't mind you letting me play some stuff while you're gone."

She tries to muster her best smile and Gareth caves in with a roll of the eyes and a happy smile. He knows her, knows her antics and goes to bring her the old turntables. He puts his vest on, throws a beautiful smile to her and lets her to the calmness of the store. She goes to the big shelves where thousands of vinyls are put. She closes her eyes and chooses one. It's Led Zeppelin and she lets the music play with a lazy smile on her lips. Her bracelets cling as she plays with a thread on her short. She wonders if one day, she'll be able to write as prettily, if maybe someday she'll be able to play with words as easily as she plays guitar. Because words are complicated and they all are a precise meaning but some of them had been so overused that they don't mean nothing anymore. It's hard to figure which word to use, which one is the more precise. And it's even harder to put a word on your feelings when you don't know what they are.

* * *

She writes a song about deep dark blue eyes, smoke sticking to her bones and a warmth that burns like cold ice. She writes about a man all dark who is hidden inside himself, who is sheltering himself. She talks about a man's hands which are scarred, battered and dirty by honesty and life. She talks about a man who talks when he has to but keeps quiet to express himself. There's something she writes, there's something about him that breaks my bones, that there's something about him that open old wounds, that there's something about him that free him. She writes about the stars in her eyes and the secret smiles she catches at the commissures of his lips when he thinks she's not looking. There's an aura around him, like he's sad and happy, like he's funny and harsh, like he's soft and frightened. There's something about him.

* * *

She doesn't have any news from Daryl. She checks her phone but they're only Thursday night and it's only been two days that he has her number. She doesn't know if he wants to eat with her, if maybe she scared him. She didn't see anything feminine in his clothes, didn't see anything that would indicate that he was in a relationship. But at the same time, he could be with another man. Though, she can't see Daryl being in a relationship with another man, it seems just out of character. But she doesn't know the man and maybe there's that. But then why did he nod ? She is lost, not really knowing what to do. But there's no way for her to do anything except maybe going to the Laundromat but she has nothing to wash yet, probably tomorrow though. So all she can do is wait around with nothing to do. Well, that is a lie because she has to work and take care of Judith, smiling at Carl and spends some time with Rick. Then, there's always Dale living in the apartment in front of hers who is always nice. Sometimes, she goes drink tea with him and he reminds her a bit of her father. Like him, he lost his wife.

* * *

_Diner at noon ? _

There's no signature, nothing indicating who it is but a smile still tugs on her lips. It's Daryl. Only him would text her and not sign it, thinking she would probably guess. And he is right, she guessed it. She doesn't what to say though. Does it mean tomorrow ? does it mean one day at noon ? she chews on her lower lip and decides to call him. It's the middle of the afternoon and there's nobody in the shop. She wonders what Daryl is doing, if he's working, if he's okay. She wonders all the time about him anyway.

"Beth ?"

His voice, just hearing it make her feel so relieved and she nods like an idiot. She clears her throat then.

"Yeah."

The line stays silent for a bit, each waiting for the other to speak. Beth decides that she's the one who should talk.

"You meant tomorrow at noon ?"

"huh, ah meant that ah can at noon. Whatever da day."

She can hear some noise behind him but it's mostly his voice which takes all the place. It's so deep, so rough and it's like he's just behind her, speaking in her ear.

"Okay then. I'll see at my work when I can."

He says something, softly. A little smile finds its way on her lips and she wonders what makes him be so quiet. But she likes it all the same and doesn't mind one bit.

"I'll see you tonight or "

She lets the sentence hang in the air like that. He says yes, he says he'll be there tonight. It sounds like a promise and it makes her belly turns and be all weird. It's like being sick but being happy to be sick.

"See you tonight, Daryl."

Her voice is barely above a whisper, she hears him hesitating before he mumbles a yeah and hangs up. She isn't really surprised about it to be honest. Daryl doesn't look like the kind of person who says goodbye and those kind of things. She never saw him fidgeting with his phone or anything before. She wonders if it's because he's alone, because he has nobody or if he just doesn't give a crap about technology. She tends to think it was the latter. She doesn't even know how old he is. But it doesn't matter anyway. She stares stupidly at her phone but then, there's a knock and the phone is forgotten in her pocket. Rick is there and she remembers now that she's supposed to watch Judith.

"Hello sweetie," she coos at the baby as Rick hands her the car seat. "How are you, Rick ?"

She closes the door behind them as the man enters, leaving Judith's bag next to the door.

"I'm, ah, I'm okay. Ain't easy but, ah, I dunno, seems to get easier," he says.

Then he closes his eyes like he said the wrong thing and she can see the quick glance he sends her. Maybe he's worried she thinks he's moving on too fast or that something is wrong with him. She smiles softly at him, tilting her heart. He doesn't know about her Mum, doesn't know about how much Beth had suffered her Mum's death and what she did. He doesn't know about the scars and the psychiatric hospital.

"We all move at our own rhythm, Rick," she sighs, trying to encourage him to talk. Because she doesn't know if he has many friends. Nobody ever comes to his apartment as far as she knows except Carl's friend. Rick always seems to be at work or taking care of the kid and she wonders if someone takes care of him. She knows that Dale goes see him sometimes, brings him some tea and offers to take care of Carl some afternoons. And Dale has lost his wife too so maybe Rick talks to him. It can only help.

"The first months, you, you saw me, Beth, I was a mess 'n thangs weren't easy," he muttered, his eyes looking everywhere as he rubbed his chin, "but I feel less like I'm drowning under the weight of it all, I'm more, ah, I control more everything and it feels good. But I miss her so much, I, sometimes it feels like she's there, you know ?"

She nods because everything he says, she knows it all. She went through grief and she guesses that there must be some big differences between losing his wife and losing a mother. That you have projects for a lifetime with a wife, that you think that your partner will be growing old with you. Whereas everybody knows that they will probably survive their parents. But her Mum, she lost her Mum too soon and everything was so wrong and she was already so hurt by life. She made some wrong choices but she wasn't the only one.

"You're just finding your rhythm without her," she says, trying to make her voice the softest possible, "you're learning to leave without her. It doesn't mean that you forget about her, doesn't mean that you don't love her anymore."

She presses gently his arm before putting the car seat on the floor. There's a cover on the couch and she takes Judith in her arms softly, gently before laying her on the couch. That's much nicer for the baby and Beth will be able to sit on the floor and plays guitar as she makes sure that the infant stays on the couch.

Rick is nodding but he seems uncomfortable, rubbing the back of his neck. He clears his throat, looking around.

"I'll, huh, I'll be back at midnight, that ok ?"

She nods, says everything is okay and Rick kisses his daughter's forehead, thanking Beth before exiting the apartment. Now, it's her and little Jude, it's her guitar and all those dreams inside her head.

* * *

Rick was late, Judith had been cranky and she was exhausted. But she doesn't want to miss her Daryl time. She doesn't hurry to the Laundromat though she feels like she has to stop walking so fast all the time. She said to Daryl that she would be here tonight, what if he went earlier and he didn't see her and left ? what if he thought she was mocking him ? What if he thought she was the worst person ever ? She can't, she can't, she can't. then she's at the Laundromat, her hand tight around the bag of dirty clothes. She enters, prays for a scent of smoke, prays for a dark shadows but there's only the neon and her pathetic self. No Daryl. She sits, lets herself fall on the uncomfortable seat as the bag lays on the floor, defeated. He's not here.

* * *

** a/n** any thoughts ?


	4. the first step

**a/n** thank you for the follows/favorites/reviews. it motivates  
me to keep the story going.

* * *

He doesn't know what to do. She gave him a choice, she actually let him decide what he wants and when. It never happens to him, there's always something or someone making the choice for him. It's like he never has the choice before. And there's this girl who is sweet and nice that gives him a choice. She went out there, she looked at him, she offered diner, she offered him a way to contact her and she didn't ask for more. She lets him be in control and it's not that he doesn't like it but it gives no reason to run away. Usually, there's always something that people do that sends him far away from them. People can't help but trigger all the bad things inside him. But Beth, Beth it's like she has a map of all the mines and she walks between, waltzes between them likes there's nothing that she can set off. She's not triggering anything that makes him want to leave and it's worrying him. Why isn't she being like everyone else ? but at the same time, it's such a relief, to have someone that won't hurt him nearby. Though he can't be sure she won't hurt him. So he wonders if one day, he won't let his guard down and she'll hurt him. But then, he's giving himself too much credit because he knows that he will fuck up. He'll just find a way to fuck up and she'll leave. His fingers play with the paper, not really knowing what to do.

"Well what do we have here ? Did you get some chicks' number ?"

Daryl shifts, he didn't heard the kid and the paper is quickly pushed inside his back pocket.

"Ain't yer goddamn business."

He doesn't want to talk about her, she's his business, his secret and he wants to keep her for him, he wants to keep her all for him. And nobody else. Especially not fucking Zach.

"Oh, c'mon man. Saw girls give ya their numbers and ya always throw them. So why d'ya keep this one ?"

Because it's Beth he wants to say, because I know she doesn't want nothing more than what she says she wants, he wants to say. He ends up shrugging. He's not good with words, he has no skills when it comes to express himself. He read books sometimes, he reads stuff to try and get more vocabulary, to get finally the real meaning of words. He always ends up making everybody mad as soon as he opens his mouth so he shuts up now. He tries not to say too much, tries to say only what he's sure won't be wrong. But he slips sometimes. Sometimes he does it on purpose, sometimes he's looking for a fight. That's why he doesn't go to bars. Because he usually gets drunk and meets some asshole that he ends up beating. And then it's back to jail, back to square one. He can't control his demons but he can't sure as hell avoid them.

Zach is watching him like Daryl holds some kind of secret and the older man doesn't appreciate it. He's used to have some kind of poker face, he's used to people not digging, not really looking at him more than a few seconds. But Zach, Zach has been around him too much and he probably knows by now that Daryl is just soft. Well, the softer Dixon which still makes him a mean son of a bitch. But he's still way too weak for his dumbass father and his asshole brother. He's still too weak, too soft, too stupid, too little. With them, there's always something that's wrong with him. He can't ever do anything right, but it doesn't stop him to try. He knows even that life that he's now leading wouldn't be good enough for them. They would say it's too proper, they would say that it looks like Daryl is ashamed of his family, of where and how he grew up. And the worst is that they wouldn't be wrong.

"Just a girl. Have to tell her when we can meet to eat."

Zach looks at him like he's not sure what is happening. There's a frown on his face before a wide grin is spreading on his lips. Daryl wants to bash his face in. he knows the boy is going to make comments and being a little shit about it. It's a not a date, he would know if it's a date, he isn't that dumb. But then, it's not like he ever went on a date. So there's that too. Women either scare him or annoy him. But that girl is his first Beth. And maybe it's changing everything, maybe it's his first Beth and it means something.

There's too much thoughts in his head, it sounds like it's going to explode and he feels a need he hasn't felt in years. Daryl wants to sit down, bend his knees, pushes his forehead against it and cry. He wants to cry over all those wasted years, over everything that happened to him. Then there's Beth and she's bright and sunny and she makes something inside him stir and move, she makes him feel again. But he can't just feel the good stuff, he needs to feel the bad ones still and it's like something is breaking and everything is rushing out. There's the scars, the heatbreaks, the bloods and that heart of his that he had never given, that useless muscles that made everything inside him twist and hurt.

But he's at the garage with Zach's stupid face looking at him. The sun is making him squint and his hands are sweaty. And maybe it has everything to do with a certain, maybe it's just the sun. He doesn't want to know because it would just say too much about him, it would unravel too much and he's too much of a coward to face himself. So he squints a bit more, wipes his hands on his pants before glaring at Zach.

"Shut da fuck up."

The kid raises both his hands like he didn't mean no harm but that stupid goofy smirk tells Daryl another story. And he's scowling. but he doesn't have time to fuck around, no time at all so he shrugs, mumbles something and strolls back to the car he had been working on. That smoke break has been good for his nerves but Zach ruined it all. His stomach is all twisted now and he feels like throwing up. Nothing new under the sun.

* * *

He knows the number by heart now. He has typed it all the time before stopping himself, burying the phone in the back of his pocket, trying to push Beth at the back of his mind. He has no time he wants to tell, he is too scared he wants to say but he can't say nothing because he wants to go. He wants to be selfish, to be the reason Beth smiles her secret smile. He wants to be the guy who finds his way to her, he wants to be the guy that gets to know what she's thinking about, no, he wants to be the guy that knows what she's thinking without her even saying anything. He wants to know her like he knows her phone number. By heart. But he's too afraid to do anything about it and thinks that he gives himself three days. Because in three days, it will be over, in two days, he'll have to face her and if he doesn't call her, well, if he doesn't call her then it's like saying no. Because if he can't say yes on the phone then what will he do when her blue eyes will stop his brain ? Maybe it's what he needs though, to stop thinking so loud and so much all the damn time. Maybe he needs to make his brain stop. Make everything stop, take a deep breath maybe ? but above everything, have a five seconds to breathe and take everything in. But he knows that peace isn't for Dixon.

He falls asleep in his jeans, sweat making the sheets stick to his skin. He hates it and when he wakes up, he feels like he just had the worst night ever. He gets rid of his pants and jumps in the shower. His hair is annoying him and his fingers twitch toward the razor. But he really doesn't have the time since he pretty sure he's late already. He takes note that he should wash the sheets as he gets dressed. He then hurries to work and it's the same nightmare, Beth's number all but forgotten in his back pockets on the pants laying on his bathroom's floor.

* * *

They're eating at the diner. Like every fucking day and Daryl thinks that, maybe, he doesn't know but maybe they can meet at noon. She wants to eat and people eats at noon and he knows that a girl like Beth, well a girl like her would never suggest some kind of date to him. So noon must be perfect. But then, maybe she's working. He's worrying the skin of his thumbnail with his teeth as Zach digs like a pig in his plate. Honestly, Daryl has no manners when it comes to eat but come on, even he isn't that disgusting while eating. His hand goes to his backpocket, trying to reach the piece of paper holding his sanity lately. His heart stops, a cold sweat making goosebumps appear all over his skin as he realizes it's not here. It's not here and now he remembers that he had to change pants and he wants to hit his head in the table. He needs to call Beth, now that he's thinking about not calling her because he lost her number makes him want to burn everything to the ground. But he knows the number by heart, he knows it, it's in his brain and he starts moving again, eating again.

Daryl won't call her now though. Because Zach and his stupid face are there and he doesn't need to see the brat feeling like he knows fucking everything. He'll wait for his break or maybe for the little time he has between the garage and the graveyard. What_thefuck_ever. Then it's like the time flies and soon he's staring at his screen, smoke in hands. He rubs his lower lip, glaring at his screen like it's his phone's fault if he's this situation. He knows he's always acting like he wants to make decision and stuff but it seems like he's apparently the worst to do so. The number is typed and it's glaring at him and then he remembers that he can text. He wants to smash his head in for not thinking about it before. He could have gained time by not acting like a fuzzy teenager waiting to call his crush. Not that he has a crush or anything.

_Dinner at noon ?_

He feels like a big weight is lifted from his shoulders and he's pushing the smoke between his lips with a relieved twitch of his mouth. Everything is fine, he did it. He fucking did it and he did it alone. Merle didn't force him and argue for fucking forever about making Daryl do something. He had a choice, he make a choice and he manned up. But then, his phone is lighting and he recognizes the number because it's imprinted in his fucking brain.

"Beth ?"

He wants cough, to clear his throat because he knows he must sound like shit and really, a pack of smoke a day is getting way too much and expensive. But he has the personality of an addict and better cigarettes than drugs. Right ?

"Yeah."

Her voice is soft and all honey and he can't hear anything but it. Maybe it's because there's no noise all around them, all around her because the garage is being so loud but whatever. Her voice is all he hears and his stomach twists as he wonders why she calls. He must have stayed quiet too much because she speaks again.

"You meant tomorrow at noon ?"

He closes his eyes, swearing under his breath. He didn't think about that, he was just so glad he had finally had the guts to send her a text that he hadn't thought about the details.

"Huh, ah meant, that ah can at noon. Whatever da day."

There's a noise, something metallic dropping that makes him jump a bit. Sudden noises kind of worry him, sudden noises kind of startle him. He can control himself, he knows how to not show fear but still, sudden noises always make him a bit jumpy.

"Okay then. I'll see at my work when I can."

He mumbles something, not really sure. Yeah, this is happening and he looks up at the sun, willing to have his eyes burn because he's just waiting for the other shoe to drop and he would rather not see it. He doesn't want to see whatever little steps he made get burn to the ground under the clueless fingers of a blonde girl.

"I'll see you tonight or"

Her voice brings him back to Earth and he nods though he knows she can't exactly see him.

"Yes, ah'll be here tonight."

He has laundry to do anyway, that's why he goes.

"See you tonight, Daryl."

"Yeah"

Daryl hangs up, a barely there smile deforming his lips. _See you_.

* * *

He's so freaking late, his hands are sweating and he's hurrying all over his house, sowing chaos more than order behind him as he tries to put all his clothes in the bag. He needs to go to the Laundromat and there was this stupid grave he had to dig but then, there was a problem and he had to dig it again and now he's so freaking late. His stomach is twisting so hard he thinks he might throw up and then, he picks up his jeans and stops moving. There's Beth's paper in it and as he finds it, he realizes. She took a risk too, she gave him a chance and she put herself on the line. She put herself in the line in case he would reject her. His face softens and he lets the piece of paper rest on his dirty nightstand between an empty bottle of beer and a half-finished pack of smoke. Then he's running again, his bag in hand, trying to get to her before she thinks he abandoned her. He knows how abandonment taste and it's bitter. But he stops as he's near, the neon light already in his sight. He stops and takes a deep breath, hoping he's not too late, hoping he isn't missing something.

But he steps inside and the light he's seeing isn't neon but blonde hair and a corner of his mouth rises in a crooked smile.

"Hey Beth."

* * *

** a/n** so yeah, here he is. tell me what you think.


	5. carving a smile

**a/n.** thank you for the reviews, the follow and the favorites, guys.  
Hope you will like this new chapter.

* * *

He's all black, from his clothes, to his shoes, to his hair, everything is so dark about him. But his blue eyes are so bright, they make the room look like it's on fire. And she smiles, she smiles fully, widely because he's here. She didn't freak him out, didn't scare him and now, well now he's here and there's that beautiful smile of his and she's just so happy. She soon realizes that she's on her feet, no longer sat on the washing machine and she takes a deep breath.

"Hi."

It's simple, really, just like his hey but it's theirs and just like that, it sounds like everything. She sits again as he enters the room, looking like he's starting his routine, putting his clothes in the washing machine, putting pieces. But she's busy, looking at him, being happy that he's still here, that he didn't run away.

"Thought you wouldn't come."

"Said ah would didn't I ?"

And she nods with a smile. Daryl is a man of his words, he doesn't speak much but what he says he does. And it's like gold in a world like this.

"It was just me being stupid."

"Nah, ain't nothin' stupid abo't ya."

He makes her smile even wider as she gently shakes her head. Her eyes fell back to her linked hands resting on her thighs. She's not really sure she has something to say but sometimes, it seems like silence is more meaningful with that man, sometimes it seems that words won't ever be enough when he's looking into her eyes. But his eyes talk way more than anything she had ever heard and somehow, somehow, it makes it all ok.

"No book today ?"

She looks up, biting her lower lip to keep her smile to grow too wide. Today seems to be a good day, usually Daryl is not that chatty. But she won't complain.

"No, I forgot my bag. But it's alright, you can keep me company."

His teeth dig in his lower lip and he jumps on the washing machine, sitting next to her. She watches her feet dangling, her eyes quickly glancing at him and when she catches his, she smiles. But soon, he's lighting a smoke, carefully blowing the smoke away from her.

"They will kill you."

He chuckles, glancing at her with that stupid goofy smile of his.

"We all gonna die, princess, rather have somethin' I like killin' me."

She chuckles, shaking a bit her head as she tries not to roll her eyes. She bumps her shoulder against his, taking a little breath. She feels happy. There's only silence, a scent that is typically Daryl and the soothing rumble of the machines. It's peaceful and all she never knew she wanted. It's true that she doesn't know much about him. His name is Daryl, he smokes. Words aren't really his thing. His smile is the rarest and prettiest sight she has ever witnessed. He works a lot though she has no idea what it is that he's doing. He bits in the inside of his cheek when he's nervous or can't find the words to express himself. He can never stay still for long and he's a man of his word. He's a good man and maybe it's all she needs to know.

"What is it that you do ? I mean, where do you work ?"

They never ask personal question but maybe it's the fact that they have each other's number, maybe it's the fact that they will have dinner together soon. She doesn't know what it is but somehow, just knowing small facts about him isn't enough. She needs to know more. She watches his tongue dart out, licking his lower lip as he glances at her. One more drag of his cigarette is taken and he looks ahead as he replies.

"Ah'm a mechanic. Grave digger at night."

She nods, it makes sense. It explains why he has all those clothes to wash, it explains why he's working a lot. It also tells her that Daryl is someone who works with his hands and she's not surprised because Daryl seems to be more a man of action than a man of words. And she doesn't mind at all. But she's surprised when he asks her what it is that she does.

"I work in a disc store in town. It's a little shop and it's really awesome."

He nods, his lip tuck between his teeth before he blows smoke. There's something wolfish in his smile, something wolfish everytime he shows his teeth and she can see now that his canines are vampire like. She chuckles, tells him exactly that which ends up making him raise both eyebrows. He shakes his head a bit but she can see the smile etched on his lips. She's making Daryl smile and she thinks it's one of the most rewarding thing she has ever done.

"Better be nice tah me or ah'll bite ya."

He teases with that glint in her eyes and she rolls her eyes. Her smile hasn't left her lips since he enters the room and she wonders if he knows that he's the one carving it on her lips. If he knows he's the why.

"I'm not afraid of you, though you should be scared of me."

She adds the last bit after a moment of silence, trying to act all innocent like. This is simple, natural, feels like breathing, feels like blinking. It's effortless and it doesn't sound like she's faking. And maybe she's not but she's been faking for so long, she's not even sure who she is anymore. When she glances at him though, he seems to be lost in thoughts, his eyebrows furrow like there's a difficult mathematic problem in front of him. She must have said something wrong, must have stepped on boundaries she didn't know exist. Because Daryl's smile is dead and he's crawling back in, his walls getting up so fast she didn't even see it. She tries to think of something, anything but there's nothing that comes and she decides to say the truth.

"I'm sorry if I said something to upset you."

"No, t's alright."

He says it with a little nod and looks at her before jumping on his feet, crushing his cigarette to the floor. He's distancing himself from her and she curls her hands in fists so as to not reach for him. She knows, she knows she's being stupid and maybe it's a stupid crush she has on the older man but she needs him close. She feels safe, protected with him. But she's walking on eggshells and waltzing her way around mines never was her thing. But she's trying and she can't help is sometimes her feet get caught in the carpet. She's not perfect and she still knows so little about the man that, even if she tries her best, she can't avoid mistakes. She watches the way he chews on his lower lip and she knows that it means he's nervous and thinking. She tilts her head and a smile blossoms on her lips. She really can't help it but this man, this child, he's the picture of everything that is screwed up but still beautiful. He makes her believe that everything will be alright and he gave her back hope. Because Daryl carries with him so much darkness, you guess that he went through Hell but then, he smiles and you see light and you have hope. Hope that maybe, you can go through your own piece of hell and end up with light too. Hope that you can be a survivor like Daryl is.

Beth remembers then that Daryl asked about her job, maybe she can share something, so he would know that she was in, that she is giving more than him and that it doesn't bother her at all.

"I write songs," she starts, watching her nails as she absently chews on her lower lip, "I play piano too. I want to play in public, record my own disc."

She looks up with a shy smile and finds two curious blue eyes looking at her.

"What do you write about ?" he asks, his voice low and throaty.

"About things, people. Everything I can think of."

He nods and she thinks that the discussion is over but then, after a moment of silence, he tells her that he plays guitar. And now, now she can't stop talking. Because he's a musician, he knows the passion, he knows what it means to have some kind of whisper of a music in the ear at three in the morning. To wake up and play it until it's out. He tells her how he learnt from an old videotape and that one of his neighbors used to help me with that too.

* * *

For once in forever, Beth doesn't wake up in sweat at five in the morning. Her alarm wakes her up and she marvels at the fact. Because there was no nightmare, there was no scream, nothing. Just dreamless sleep and maybe it's the best kind. She hums as she makes her cup of tea, sings under the shower and smiles on her way to work. The realization hits her like a ton of bricks, she's happy. There's nothing wrong and maybe she misses her family a bit too much but she doesn't crave them like she used to.

"Hello Gareth," she smiles, getting rid of her vest.

He smiles back at her, greets her and goes into his office. But then, she remembers Daryl and calls her boss back.

"Hey, you would mind if I went somewhere at noon tomorrow ?"

She tries to not be too anxious about his answer because Gareth is always super cool with her but still. Her stomach twists and she wonders anxiously what she would do if he said no. But he's saying of course and smiling.

"Date with that boyfriend of yours ?"

She can't help but blush because Daryl and boyfriend seem like an unlikely pairing. But at the same time, Daryl is sweet and attentive, he's cautious and thoughtful, he's good looking and has a gorgeous smile. And maybe when she takes two seconds to think about it, the pairing isn't that unlikely anymore.

"Shut up. Just want to see a friend of mine," she shrugs.

And she doesn't feel bad at all to say that, to say that Daryl is her friend. But there's a weird weight over her stomach and she tries hard not to think about it.

* * *

_Diner at noon tomorrow ? _

She takes a bit of time to send him the news, she had to wait her break at noon to do so and she is surprised when Daryl answers only seconds later.

_k. where ?_

Her mouth opens a bit, the fork hanging in the air as she frowns. After a second when she freezes, the fork finally goes into her mouth and as she chews on her noodles, she tries to think of someplace. But then, she thinks that she already made the big first step, she asked him to go out. So maybe he should be the one choosing where.

_Where you want._

She's strangely satisfied with her decision and keeps eating while glancing here and there at her phone. But choosing must be hard for him since he's still not answering. She guesses that they still have all the time in the world and she decidedly won't rush him. It sounds like a bad idea to force Daryl into something. But she catches herself calling it a date in her head which makes her blush. She wonders how it is to be Daryl's girlfriend. If he talks more, if he shares more. She wonders how his home looks like, she wonders how he sleeps, what he does when he's home. She wonders where he goes when he wants to have fun. She wonders if there's a layer of his personality only reserved for his girlfriend, if there's a side of Daryl that nobody ever saw and that it's all made for one special girl. She wonders how it is, to be that one special girl to someone so cautious as Daryl. And her blush increases as she realizes she wishes it was her.

* * *

Soon, she's walking back home and there's some kind of bouncing in the way she walks. Happiness is such a strange thing, you wait for it, work for it so hard and once it's here, it seems to run through your fingers like water, so fast it only leaves a bittersweet taste on the tip of your tongue. But for now, for now, she's happy and she's bouncing. She runs the stairs up, stopping as she steps on her floor, facing Dale.

"Hello Dale, how are you today ?"

The man is so important for their little family, for Rick, for Carl, for her. He keeps them grounding, he keeps them together. They're all living on the same floor and sometimes, Dale invites them for dinner and it's such a nice thing, such a nice moment. Maybe her family let her down but she found people who love her, people she can count on. And what is more beautiful than people being kind ?

Dale chats, because really Dale can talk about everything and finally invites her over for tea. She glances at her watch, she does have the time. Plus, she doesn't have anything plan for tonight so, in the end, everything falls perfectly.

"There's such a nice little shop which opened a week ago at the corner of the street, Dale. They sell all kind of tea, you should go some day. I could go with you," she offers with a kind smile as the man nods.

Her spoon is turning in her tea and she doesn't feel her phone vibrate in her bag, a text from Daryl with the address of the diner.

* * *

**a/n** the 'date' is soon guys. let me know what you think or would like to see !


	6. bruised soul

**a/n** I'm so sorry about the wait, guys.  
I'm really really sorry and I hope this  
will be good !

* * *

He is an asshole. He can't help but think he is. Right now, sitting on his old couch, a beer in hand, he just can't sleep. He has left Beth to go home three hours ago and he has tried to sleep, he did but he couldn't. He keeps thinking about her words, telling him he should be afraid of her. She wanted to be playful, she didn't mean anything and he knew it. But still, her words were true, her words touched something inside him and it made him want to run. But he just had put distance between. Then, she had apologized and he felt like utter shit. It's not her fault that he's all messed up, it's not her fault that he's scared of his own shadow. Nothing is her fault when it comes to the poor excuse of a man he is. But he had distanced himself but, somehow, she had managed to reach him and he was pleasantly surprised when she told him about music. Her music. His eyes dart toward his guitar and he takes another gulp of his beer.

The smoke is burning between his fingers as he glances at the clock. Four am. He has to wake up soon and he knows that he will be in a bad mood all day. And he would like to sleep, to rest, to forget a bit about life for a moment. But there's no sleep for him, he knows that. So he takes his guitar and starts playing notes, wide blue eyes and blonde locks in mind.

* * *

He's trying really hard to not deck Zach but really, the kid is getting on his last nerve. Daryl napped for forty minutes last night and he's in no mood to take Zach's chatter. Not that he had ever liked it but today, today he just wants silence and maybe to die. He drinks coffee with his steak but he knows that there's not enough coffee on Earth to keep him awake and in a good mood today. He's ready to plunge his knife in the boy's eye socket when his phone vibrates in his pocket. Fucking what now ?

_Dinner at noon tomorrow ?_

Tomorrow ? How come it's so soon ? He lied to himself, telling himself that she would forget about it, that she wouldn't find a date, that it wouldn't work out. He deluded himself but he knows, he knows that it's not like Beth to lie and it's not like Beth to try and fool someone. What she says is what you get and maybe that's what he likes about her.

"Who's texting you ?"

Daryl just glares at him, a little groan escaping his teeth. It's not any of that asshole's business who the fuck he's texting. And maybe he's being a bit grumpy because he hadn't slept but fuck that and fuck stupid Zach.

_k. where ?_

He's quietly eating while the prick is still glaring at him and annoying him with questions about girls and phones and

"Can't you shut da fuck up, man ?" he finally snaps, glaring at the young man.

_Where you want._

He finds himself quite stupid now facing that text. Where he wants ? He knows only one diner and it's this one. But it's next to the garage and he just knows that Zach would come here and put his nose all up his business. But the places Daryl usually hangs around are bars where he can't really picture Beth being comfortable in. It's the sad truth, they're not the same and maybe, maybe he should bring her in one of those bars so as to show her that she should do nothing with him. But being selfless hasn't been much of one of his qualities and he enjoys bathing in Beth's light. Plus, he knows that she won't allow it for very long so he doesn't see the point in screwing things up right now. He passes a tired hand over his face, glancing at Zach.

"Where d'ya take girls ?"

The boy's face immediately goes blank before a stupid smirk deforms his face, a raised eyebrow expressing smugness. What a smug prick, really. Zach is the kind of guy that is funny and knows it, that attracts girls and knows it.

"In some caves," answered the asshole like this is the funniest shit ever.

Daryl wants to smash his face into the table to make him stop smiling like that. He only stares though because he's too tired to actually bash Zach's face in. But still, just imagining the sound is satisfying enough. For now.

"C'mon Daryl, give me a smile here, I'm trying," starts the prick before receiving another hateful glare that makes him raise his hands, "Okay, fine. Look it depends when you're taking her. To lunch or for later ?"

"Lunch."

Zach nods like he understands, a serious expression making its way on his lips.

"There's this little thing, it's a pizzeria, not too far from here but far enough you probably won't meet anyone you know. Or if you want a diner like this one, there's another five minutes away," he says, looking at Daryl without an ounce of humor in his eyes.

Daryl is so relieved that Zach is here finally. So he nods, chews on his lower lip and says he'll think about it. The other boy writes the addresses on a napkin while Daryl sips on his beer. The weight in the tip of his stomach seems to disappear for a bit and he thinks that maybe going to eat somewhere with Beth will be good if it's in Zach's hands.

* * *

The day is a nightmare, it's long and his bones are sore and tired. He won't got dig tonight, he called, said he couldn't, said he would go tomorrow but that tonight, no, not tonight. There was a bit of fuss, of grumbles but the man finally said it was ok. The napkin with the addresses is burning in his backpocket and as he's soon done with his smoke, he's texting Beth. A pizzeria sounds good, he likes pizza, everybody likes pizza. Right ? He sends the text, closing his phone and buries it in his pocket, jumping in his truck and speeding away. Shit, he just wants to sleep.

* * *

Daryl is finally in his bed, kicking his shoes out, slamming his bedroom door shut and falling face first in bed. He quickly gets rid of his pants before throwing away his vest and his shirt. He groans, his head is killing him and now that his eyes are closed, he knows he won't be able to open them again. He knows that his alarm is set on his phone and he rolls in his sheets so as to free them and cover his body with it. Tomorrow, he'll eat with Beth in a pizzeria and he'll have slept enough and it will be ok. Nevertheless, the weird weight is back on his stomach but he is too tired to think about it and he's soon asleep.

He can't believe he had been asleep for twelve hours. He wakes up feeling more awake than he has felt in such a long time. His alarm is supposed to go off in thirty minutes and he turns on his back, his eyes focusing on the ceiling. His hand goes clumsily to his nightstand, closing on his pack of smoke. A small smile tugs on his lips as he sticks a smoke between them. He then stands up and goes to make some coffee before making some eggs. He has time to eat and shower, he has time and he feels so relaxed, he's starting to worry. Effectively, he's pretty sure that something is going to go wrong. But still, he eats his eggs, drinks his coffee, lights a second smoke and goes to the shower.

Standing in front of his closet like some bitch is really not what he thought would happen this morning when he woke up. He's in his boxers, a smoke in hand, tilting his head. He scratches his temple before swearing under his breath and throwing a jeans on his bed before grabbing a shirt and slamming the closet shut. What the fuck even ? He's angry with himself now, he's not supposed to be careful about what he looks like but still he does. Beth saw him at his worst, well, maybe not his worst but still, she has seen him looking like a homeless guy. She won't care if he still looks like shit. But luckily, his jeans are his favorite and the tshirt is one of Motorhead that kind of loves. He pats the pocket of the discarded jeans on the floor and finds his phone as it beeps. Fucking alarm.

* * *

The bike makes a loud noise as he speeds up toward the garage. He feels good, he has showered, he likes his clothes and he can't see what could go wrong in the four hours he has to work. Zach whistles like a stupid little shit when he gets off the bike and takes his helmet off. Daryl quickly flips him off and goes to his locker, putting his backpack and his helmet in it before he goes working with his overall on.

"Hey Daryl, what time do you leave ?"

He raises his head, ready to roll his eyes but then, he glances at the clock and swears.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he starts, getting up to go to his locker, taking his overall off before getting on his bike.

It's twelve o'clock, it's noon and he's still at the garage. He's such an idiot.

Finally he's there at the pizzeria and the place looks fucking good. Way too good for what he had in mind. He really though that they should keep stuff casual but now, he's in front of the pizzeria, his hand going to the handle of the door. He takes a deep breath, his phone vibrating as he enters. He spots her and a little smile splits his face in two. She's pretty, like really pretty. Her hair are down and she's wearing a flowered dress. He can even spot make up and he feels like he's pushing the sea apart, the way he walks toward her, his eyes not leaving her.

"Hey," he half-whispers, half-grins, looking down so their eyes would meet.

"Hey, Daryl," she grins, "you look good."

His smile is a bit more tight and he wants to tell her to stop but ends up humming and shrugging, gesturing at her with his hand.

"Ya lookin' good too."

And he buries his hands in his pockets, turning around as a waiter comes to them.

"Hello, for two ?" asks the guy, smiling at them.

He nods and Beth nods and the guy walks, both of them following. And suddenly, Daryl feels very shitty about the way he's dressed.

* * *

**a/n** so anything to say ? anything you want to see ? let me know guys.


	7. The ghost of your hand

**A/n **Hey guys. Sorry for making you wait. Hope you like it !

* * *

As soon as she left Dale, she couldn't help herself, she checked her phone. The adress puzzled her, she never heard of it. Which explains why she was now looking on Google Maps so as to find it. She feels herself blush as she finally sees what is that place that Daryl decided to take her to. It's a pizzeria and not a shitty one at that. She knows she shouldn't hope too much but really she can't help the fire that flickers inside her, hope is such a resistant flower. She thought that Daryl would take her to some diner, nothing too fancy. But the pizzeria actually looks like it's a bit fancy and she wonders if it's how it feels to be Daryl Dixon's girl.

Nevertheless, she shouldn't give more thought about it. Will happen what will happen and _get a grip, Greene_. Still, it's such a skill he has, to make smiles blossom on her face as easily as breathing. She keeps surfing on internet, opening Spotify so as to find a playlist she likes. She's going to eat, she's going to actually cook and it will be awesome. The smile never leaves her lips as she walks to the kitchen.

* * *

There's a new nightmare and tears roll down her cheeks as anger builds up in her belly. She thought she was done with it, she thought sleep was hers once more. She has obviously fooled herself and she can only blame herself. She should stop hoping for the best, the worst was always bound to happen. She takes a deep breath still, she tries to think about something else and the only thing calming down the storm of her sleepy mind is the date with Daryl. Because yes, she has decided it was a date. Sue her. She wishes the little voice in her head would keep quiet, would stop whispering all those horrible things, would stop destroying all her hopes and joys like they're only castles made of cards. The doubt still settles in the pit of her stomach, maybe Daryl doesn't think of it as more than humoring her, maybe he won't ever come. The horrible little monster eats at her stomach and she feels like throwing up.

Angry at herself, she throws the covers away, covering a yawn with the back of her hand. She hates being so insecure. She wasn't like that before but then, her Mum died, she tried to kill herself and her dad sent her to some kind of azylum. Maybe she lost herself somewhere in the middle of that. She used to be so bright, so confident. Now she's just a mess of scar, doubts and loneliness. Her bad mood hangs above her head like a black cloud and no happy thought can reach her. But she doesn't want to screw up this because if Daryl takes it seriously, if Daryl wants a bit of her then she won't screw up. No way. She shakes her head and goes take a shower. Thanks to her nightmares, she has time all over her hands. A tea in hand and her wet hair covering her naked shoulders, she's standing in front of her closet. Her eyes dart to the window, trying to guess what will be the weather like. But the day is still too young and she ends up on her computer, trying to find out. Apparently, the day will be warm and sunny. She sighs, her eyes drifting to a box she hasn't opened yet. Her box full of dresses. Her teeth dig in her lower lip, her eyes staring at it. She hasn't wore a dress since she left home, the farm. But she feels like wearing one today, she feels like being pretty, pretty enough so as to make sure Daryl's blue eyes won't leave her. Standing put has never been her thing but since she lives alone, she mostly tries to hide herself and not drawn attention at all. But today, she wants Daryl's attention, she wants to be pretty.

With a decided huff, she opens the box and starts to dig in it. She ends up choosing a summer dress which is casual but a bit fancy with floral patterns. A brush is passed through her hair and she spends thirty minutes applying her make up, swearing at herself for being so lazy for months and being now rusty. She smiles at her reflection in the mirror, trying to forget about the dark cloud.

* * *

Gareth seems to be in a good modd today as he enters the shop. His eyes take her in and he shakes his head with an amused grin.

"Not a boyfriend, my ass," he chuckles.

Her nose scrunches up as she rolls her eyes.

"He's not," she says, scoffing as he shrugs, obviously not believing her, "but my not-boyfriend and me would like to know if you would allow me a bit more time to eat at noon."

She pleads with her eyes, waiting for him to cave in. As he nods, a wide grin explodes on her face, his ears covered in thank you.

"But I want an invitation to the wedding, Greene," he warns before disappearing in the back, leaving behind him the ghost of a smile on her lips.

Gareth is such an ass but he's a really nice one. She's really glad to have him as her boss, really glad to have this job. It's not long before the black cloud disappeat as Beth realizes her luck. Because she's blessed, truly. She found a new family with Rick, Judith, Carl, Dale and even Gareth. She found Daryl. And maybe it's enough to feel blessed about for now. She feels a bit like her previous self as she hums a tune that sounds happy.

* * *

It's time and she wants to throw up and cancel and jump everywhere. Her heart is in her mouth as she drives to the pizzeria. She struggles to find a place to park and looks anxiously at the clock. Noon. Shit. She hopes that Daryl isn't early. Apparently, he's not in the front of the restaurant so she enters. He could be at a table already. She wonders if he made a reservation and realizes that she has no idea what his last name is. She decides to wait ten minutes before texting him. She doesn't want to look too eager or too annoying.

Her eyes take in the restaurant and she tries to see if she can spot him. But she can't see any figure that looks like him, no short brown hair, no blue eyes, no wide shoulders, no black vest. No one like Daryl. She's starting to worry after five minutes, wonders if he forgot, wonders if it's some kind of sick joke. But it's not him, it's not who he is, she knows that. It might be the only thing she's sure of. She feels stupid now, feels all kind of dumb for dressing up. What's the use in trying to be pretty if there's no Daryl ? A waiter comes, asks her if she wants to sit and she only shakes her head. He will come, she has faith in him and she wants to believe him. She sends him text, saying she's there and when she looks up, he's here. He looks good, his hair sticking up at weird angles and when she catches his eyes, the smile he sends her way is blinding and twists her lips in a grin.

* * *

Daryl is finally in front of her and her mouth lets escape that he looks good. She knows she's probably embarrassing him, she wishes she hasn't said anything for a second. The compliment he sends her way makes her feel good and proud and happy. It makes her feel like she's enough to be at his side. She nods at the waiter this time, Daryl letting her go first as they follow the man to their table. She feels the ghost of Daryl's warm hand on the small of her back and she feels like she's walking on the clouds. They sit, Beth's eyes never leaing Daryl. The waiter speaks about the menu but she doesn't care. The need to throw up is gone and she wonders if Daryl is all she needs to feel like a normal human being.

"Ah can see t'at," he says, his voice low as he cuts her train of thoughts.

She frowns before blushing as she sees that he's checking his phone.

"Yeah, just wanted to let you know," she explains with an embarrassed smile as he puts his phone in his pocket and shrugs off his vest.

"Ah'm sorry for bein' late, didn't see the time at da garage."

She shrugs, not really caring anout him being slightly late.

"The restaurant is nice," she smiles, seeing him take the room in.

He looks like he's discovering the place, his eyes shifting. Apparently, it's both their first time here and she hopes it'll be followed by a lot of first time for them. She doesn't want to hope too much, to get hurt. Daryl doesn't seem to want more than talk to her and she's willing to take whatever he gives. She's nice like that. Plus, his presence is enough of a band aid over her opened wound. For now, at least. He nods, his eyes returning to her face. He doesn't speak but keeps his eyes on her. She wonders if something is wrong on her face and is ready to ask him but the waiter comes and gives them the menu. She wants pizza, maybe pasta but she doesn't want to look disgusting or ending up with tomato sauce on her nose. Her teeth slowly dig in her lower lip as Daryl closes the menu.

"What did you choose ?" She asks, tilting her head.

He blinks, her blush increasing as she realizes he has been staring at her.

"Meat pizza and a beer," he shrugs before nodding in her direction.

"A glass of red wine," she replies to his silent question, "and pasta. But I don't know which one," she admits, making a face, her nose crunching up.

A slight smile grazes his lips and he tilts a bit his head. She watches him as he thinks, liking the way his eyes go unfocused. She can't guess what can make him think so hard and maybe he's just waiting for her to decide. He clears his throat, her eyes focusing on him.

"Huh, want me t'choose ?"

He seems to wait for her to tell him no, he looks embarrassed and she closes her menu.

"Yes, please," she grins. Her elbow on the table, she rests her head on the palm of her hand, her eyes on him. He takes his menu, his face hidden by it. After a minute, she sees with amusement two blue eyes peering from the top of the card.

"Is there stuff ya don't like ?"

Looking at his face, you would think that it's the most important question in the world. She humors him, thinking for a moment.

"Don't think so."

Daryl nods and goes back to the menu. She likes him. The revelatin hit her from nowhere, the words like whispered among the hushed conversations, the laughs and the clatter of the forks and knives. She likes the way he smiles, she likes the way he chuckles, she likes how grumpy and soft he is. She likes how safe and protected he make her feel, how confident and proud. She will deal with that later, for now, she thinks it's a victory if he calls her friend.

"Okay, got it," he grins, closing the card.

"What is it ?"

"Huh huh," he hums, shaking his head with a smug smile, "t's gonna be a surprise."

She makes a face, being curious about what he thought would fit her taste but wanting it to be a surprise at the same time. He only raises an eyebrow at her, challenging and she ends up smiling.

"Fine. You win," she says, leaning againt the backrest.

"Coworker told me about da place, never went here b'fore."

She's a bit surprised that he's speaking again and she tilts her head as she tries to guess what brought him to say that. Daryl never says something to make small talk. Maybe he wants to be sure that she actually likes it.

"You can thank him then, it's very nice, I like it."

Daryl snorts, shaking his head though a small smile can be perceived on his lips.

"Ain't no way I'm sayin' shit 'bout ya to da asshole. Won't ever stop bustin' mah balls if ah do."

She chuckles. There's such a fondness in his voice that it makes her smile gently.

"I take it you like him."

And the way he smiles is the only reward she needs.

"Kid's alright, talk too much though."

She wonders how old he is, how old is that kid he's talking about. Because Beth can't give an age to the man facing her, maybe thirty, maybe more. But she's only twenty-two. What would Daryl want with a kid like her ? Probably nothing.

"Hey, ya ok Beth ?"

She raises her head, sees his eyes on her wrist for a second before he finds her eyes. He saw the scar, she was scratching it absentmindedly while thinking. The silence is too much for her to take and the questions in Daryl's baby blue eyes are too much. Or not enough, she doesn't know. She sighs, hating herself for ruining this date.

"My mum died. I couldn't stand it," she explains, her voice low as she avoids his gaze.

And in two sentences, here is the tragic story of Beth Greene, her biggest shame. She's not strong enough for this world, it's too hard, too scary and she withdraws her hands on her laps.

"My mum died when ah was a kid."

Her eyes shot up, catching his. She doesn't imagine the pain still in his voice and she wonders how someone strong like him can stand the pain, can walk, work, live. But he's doing it, he's strong. She realizes then that she is doing it too. Walking, working, living.

"I-"

"It-"

"Have you made a choice ?"

Their heads shot up, looking at the waiter like he broke a spell. The guy shifts, waiting as Daryl openly glares at him. He tells him that they want a glass of red wine, a beer, a meat pizza and shows him on the card what is destined to Beth. The waiter quickly goes and their eyes crash againt each other's.


	8. shameful joy

**a/n Here with an all new chapter. Finally the end of the date**  
**Thank you all for the follow and the reviews, it truly means  
a lot and it helps me write ! Hope you all will like it.**

* * *

He worries his lower lip, his eyes diverting as he tries to see if people are looking at him, looking at them. But nobody seems to give a shit. And he doesn't know if it's good or bad.

He's not quite sure what he should say. Her Mum is dead, his too. It's sad and he didn't think that this, huh, well this date would end up like that. Nothing worse to kill the mood than talking about your dead mother. But still, he wants to know and he would have if that stupid as fuck waiter didn't interrupt. But what's done is done and there's nothing he can do about it. For now. She looks ashamed and sad and he wants to wipe that look off her face. People like her don't deserve that kind of shit to happen to them.

"Ah'm glad ya here."

It's pathetic and stupid but it seems to be enough as she returns him a tentative smile. Except it's not enough and soon, her eyes become full of water again. Her eyes keep moving, darting around, everywhere but his face as her fingers play with the sheet. He wants to say something, anything but he has no idea what to say. He's not good when it comes to cheer someone up. An _excuse me_ escapes her lips in a trembling whisper and she's out the door. His blue eyes stay focused on her empty chair for a moment. He wonders if he should blame himself, if he should not have looked at her scar. It isn't his business anyway and he knows that he would have despised her to look at his own scars.

This is not his thing anyway, eating with pretty girls and all that kind of stuff. He knew it wasn't, he knew he would screw up and he did. She's not here, she left. But his brows furrow as he spots her bag. She wants to come back, she doesn't want to leave the date. He keeps worrying his lower lip and he decides that maybe she ran because she was ashamed of her tears, of her weakness like he is ashamed of his. He can't leave her like that, can't leave her alone like he dreads to be. He stands up, puts his jacket on and grabs her thing.

"Leaving, sir ?" asks the waiter.

"Yeah, my, huh, my friend ain't feelin' good."

Daryl doesn't even try to smile gently or reassuringly and just walks to the door, leaving the restaurant and their ghosts behind. He can't find her at the first glance, but then, he sees her mop of blond hair and her pretty dress, she's sitting on a bench, her head buried in her hands, her elbows on her knees, she looks lost. He doesn't want to annoy her too much though, he's not sure what to do but still, he doesn't want to leave her alone. So he goes and sits next to her, not too close but still, he sits and they stay silent.

"I'm sorry for ruining this," she whispers.

A sad smile occupies his lips and he shrugs before clearing his throat, knowing that he needs to speak. He needs to step up and stop acting like a little bitch. She needs him to speak, she needs him to say something and not grunt and growl and shrug.

"Didn't," he whispers back, his teeth mercilessly on the dry flesh of his lip. "How long ya hav' left ?"

She sniffs, her hands wiping at her cheeks before she glances at him. There are still tears on her cheeks and her face is red, her eyes puffy. But she's so raw, so pretty still and she feels so real to him. He sketches the hint of a shy smile and he receives one back.

"One hour and a half," she says, trying to clear her throat of tears, "why ?"

"Cause there's a park not too far, could buy some stuff at the bakery and go eat there," he explains, a blush spreading on the nape of his neck, waiting for her to deny him.

It's a stupid idea anyway. He shouldn't have said a thing. He still doesn't know why he keeps opening his mouth like an asshole everytime he's near her. She makes everything look okay and he can't help but speak like there's nothing he would say that she would judge wrong.

"That would be nice."

And as he focuses on her again, she seems happier and pride makes him warm. He's containing a grin, a grin that would be wide. But she still looks a bit sad and as he stands up, he extends a hand. He waits for her to hold it, he waits for her to take it so he can tell her that he's here for her, that she matters and that her happiness matters to him. But he doesn't have the words, doesn't have the guts to say it so he's extending a hand.

Her blue eyes are wide as she stares at his hand but a wide grin takes place on her lips and she takes it. She stands up and she smiles at him and he stays a bit still before she starts walking, tugging on his hand. Once more, she's taking the lead and he doesn't mind because he doesn't feel like she's taking advantage of him, it feels like they're sharing the power, the power isn't his or hers, it's theirs and it's perfect. He still has her purse and her coat in hand but since she doesn't look like she wants it so he keeps it. They walk hand in hand and they don't speak much but soon, they're in front of a bakery which looks proper and nice and so Beth it makes him hesitate. He's dirty and it looks so clean so maybe he shouldn't enter. But Beth tugs on his hand and soon they're inside. He stays by the door, lets her hand go as she wanders in the shop, looking at the food with curiosity upon her face. His hand lays uselessly against his thigh and he flexes his fingers, missing her touch.

She's back at his side in no time as the girl behind the counter watch them curiously. Probably wondering what a scary man like him is doing with a bright girl like her.

"I found what I wanted. You should look, everything looks very good," she smiles, her blue eyes catching his.

And then, she's waiting, her eyes not leaving his, daring him to say no, daring him to deny her. And he's like wet sand in her hands, she makes whatever she wants of him, she can build castles, Hell, happiness, Heaven, a house with a white picket fence, a trailer with a lonely man and a bottle of Jack. She's building his future with her bare hands and wide eyes and he doesn't even know it. But he knows he's nodding and he's walking around, finding stuff he wants, stuff that looks good.

"What ya choosin' ?"

He glances at her from the corner of his eyes, raising an eyebrow questioningly. She bites in her lower lip before walking closer to him.

"I'll take a muffin with three chocolates and a piece of that strawberry cake," she says sweetly before arching her own eyebrow.

The question is silent but he understands it perfectly. He's not big on sweet things, he likes bacon, he likes meat so he shrugs.

"Gonna buy somethin' salty, ain't big on sweet," he replies, hoping he's not disappointing her

But Beth only nods and goes speaking to the girl. He wants to be good, he wants to do the right thing so he takes out his wallet and tightens his grasp on the handle of her bag before making sure that her coat hides it.

"Daryl ? Give me my wallet, please ?" she asks, her eyes glancing distractedly at him as she watches her food being prepared.

Daryl doesn't answer, just comes closer to her and opens his wallet, his eyes quickly looking for the price. Bills are put on the counter before his wallet goes back to his backpocket.

"What are you doing ?" she asks before shaking her head, putting her hands on her hips, "No way. Daryl, you're not paying for this."

"Well, ah've got yer money, ya want to eat 'n ah ain't gonna give ya shit," he explains with a satisfied smile, "so take the damn bag 'n let's go. I want mah bacon."

She's glaring at him for a few seconds before taking her bag and smiling sweetly to the woman, a thank you escaping her lips before she exits the shop. He wonders if she's mad, wonders if he was wrong to pay for her somehow but as he exits after, she's still glaring but she's smiling at the same time. And now, he's lost.

"This ain't over, Daryl," she threatens, still smiling and he shrugs.

Because she's not mad if she's smiling and it's ok with him if she keeps busting his ass for paying. Whatever.

"Sure, Missy."

They stay silent a bit before Beth turns curious eyes toward him.

"What's your favorite movie ?"

The question catches him off guard and he's not sure what his answer should be.

"Dunno. Like Fight Club, the Godfather, stuff like that," he shrugs, wishing that he could be able to give her precise answers instead of always answering with _dunno_. Being with her, he hates his inability to express himself, to find words and to be cultivated. His accent is way too pronounced and he always gets frustrated with his stupidity. "What 'bout ya ?"

She seems to blush and he grins a bit as he wonders if she's embarrassed of her choice of movie.

"Didn't really see much movies, we didn't have a tv home, my, huh, my father didn't like it. But I love reading."

Yeah, that's exactly what he is thinking about. She's smart and cultivated and the only stuff he reads is the hunting magazine. He read other stuff before, with his Ma when she was alive. She had been pretty his Ma, she had been cultivated and smart, she went to College his Ma. He still wonders how the Hell she managed to get trapped in that mess his father was. But still, when his Dad wasn't here, she would read him some of her College books, she would teach him how to dance, his feet on hers and they would spin in their kitchen, her laugh like a melody that still rings in his memory.

"There's tons of movie ya need t'see, girls. Ah mean, ya can't live without havin' seen some. Like the Godfather," he says, glancing at her to see a small smile blossom on her lips.

He's relieved that the girl isn't crying anymore and that the black cloud hanging above her head seems to have at least diminish. But he can't really be sure though he would like so much to have brought a smile to her. She's bright, Beth Greene, all bright and pretty. He knows life isn't easy, he knows now that she had tried to kill herself after losing her mother. It sounds weird but it makes him feel closer to her. Because it means that she isn't perfect, that she has flaws too and that she has a scar too. It makes him feel less like he's unworthy of her attention.

"Then I guess I'll make you popcorn and you'll bring the movies."

He hates himself when he nods, he hates himself for telling her that she should watch some movies. Because now, there are images of them in her living room, laughing and watching movies, there's popcorn and a smile like a candle in the living room. He imagines spending so much time with her and he likes it but he's not used to get what he wants and he can't help but think that the more time he'll spend with her, the more he'll be hurt when she'll inevitably let him down, running away from him. He wouldn't even blame her, he's too screwed up. But still, he wants to enjoy whatever time she'll allow him to have.

"Here," she says, stopping as she gazes at a dinner, "they seem to have tons of bacon."

Daryl has to admit that he forgot that they were looking for something for him to eat. He glances at it and nods once more, pushing the door open before making a gesture with his hand, urging her to enter before him.

"And they say chivalry is dead," she whispers, smiling a bit at him as she enters.

He shrugs it away before they sit in a booth, facing each other. He puts her bag and her vest next to him before shrugging his off.

"I'll only take some French fries," she says, her voice soft as she gazes at him, her head resting on her hand, "I still have those pastries to eat."

"Can take what ya want, girl, I'll take some bacon," he nods, a wolfish smile pulling on his lips as their eyes lock.

The waitress is here in no time and it's all so weird and awkward for him, clearing his throat as he asks for bacon and French fries with a plate a French fries and a beer.

"Ya want stuff to drink ?"

"A coke," she says, smiling at the waitress.

He doesn't even glance at the woman, he can't tear his eyes off Beth, really. He wonders how you get back from all of this, how you get back from trying to end your life. He blinks and the waitress is gone, Beth looking at him curiously.

"Do I have something on my face ?" she teases.

Daryl feels a blush creeping up his neck as he shakes his head, mumbling _no_ under his breath before darting his eyes away, anywhere but on her face. What a dumbass, no but really, what's gotten into him ? Staring at her like some kind of creep.

"I like winter," she finally says, her eyes on him still as he's now gazing by the window.

"Really ? Bit too cold for me, ain't a big fan of multiple layers on."

"Oh really ? I couldn't guess that, seeing all those sleeveless shirt you own."

He rolls his eyes, "Smartass. Arms are too big, can't fit in those pansy ass shirt."

"I didn't say I was complaining, Daryl."

"Stop," he mutters, embarrassed as he avoids her eyes.

"Am just saying. But don't you love Christmas ? I mean, I like putting socks on, a hot chocolate in hand, watching snowflakes fall down with a Christmas tree in the corner."

He's in awe of the smile on her face, one which sounds nostalgic, a lingering longing for happier time, for forgotten times. He wonders if she thinks about her Ma. He can't say that Christmas was anything special for him. It was the day his Mother would not go out of her room, wine and cigarettes her only loved ones for that day. His Pa would not be seen, coming back at night, offering fists as if it was presents.

"Never really had Christmas," he mutters and he hates the way her face contorts in something he can't recognize. It's not pity, he knows pity and it's not that. It's something else that he can't recognize.

"Well, you'll have one this year," she smiles before turning her head as the waitress comes.

They eat mostly in silence, Beth saying things here and there about hoping his bacon is good, that the fries are awesome, that she's glad she's here. Most of the time, he's not quite sure what to reply so he keeps quiet, some noise escaping his mouth.

* * *

"It's a big moment, I don't know if I'm ready for it."

He stares at her, a slight smile on his lips as her eyes twinkle.

"Just open the damn thin'."

"Shh, you're spoiling my moment."

They're sitting on a bench in the park, the package with her pastries is resting cautiously on her knees and he's amused at the way she's making a big deal out of it. She carefully unties the bow and lifts the top of the box. Contrasting the careful way she handled the box, she quickly takes a pastry and happily bites in it, a small moan of contentment escaping her lips.

"It's super good, want a taste ?" she asks, chocolate at the corner of her lips.

"Nah, bacon was good enough for me."

He doesn't say that she has something on her mouth, keeps looking at it discreetly though he knows that he shouldn't look at her mouth at all. It's bad mojo or something and it will only make him want her. Want more than just this strange friendship they seem to be stuck in. He lets her eat, his legs spread as his blue eyes wander around, taking in the trees, the flowers and the people talking around them.

"Seem like y'all is bein' happy with your choice."

She's wiping her mouth with a napkin, nodding enthusiastically.

"Yes, I'm happy we're here," she smiles at him, looking him straight in the eye.

"Hm, t's nice," he replies, trying not to smile like a dumbass. His eyes go to his watch and he winces, "Have to go though."

She nods, standing up and he hands her her vest, the weather being colder as some clouds appear. She shrugs it on, a thank you escaping her pink lips before she goes throwing her box in the garbage.

"Let's go."

They walk, her purse still in his hand but then, she takes the other one in his as he glances, he sees that she's glancing at him and the small smile she gives him is enough to make him tighten a bit his hand around hers.

They're at her car now and she's toying with his hand, her blue eyes watching their linked fingers as his don't leave her face. She glances up then, smiles at him a bit sheepishly.

"I loved today," she whispers, their eyes locking, "it was very nice."

"Yeah, should do it again," he whispers back before blushing at what he just implied.

"Popcorns and movies," she adds and he nods, like a dumbass.

She opens her door, her hand still in his, her eyes still in his as she takes her purse and throws it on the backseat.

"You'll text me, right ?"

"Hm," he nods, his throat too tight for him to speak.

She smiles brightly at him before pushing on her tiptoes, her lips lingering on his cheek after she kissed it. Beth squeezes his hand one last time before going in her car. He tightens his jaw, trying to not brush his cheek with his fingertips like an idiot. She's driving away and now, he just has to get to his bike.

* * *

"So how was your date, buddy ?"

Daryl glares at Zack, Dave's question only being asked because the kid had to open his mouth.

"What ? I didn't know it was top secret, man. But I feel truly honored I was in the confidence."

Daryl flips him off before glaring at Dave.

"Wasn't no fuckin' date so fuck off."

He stomps to his locker, putting his overall on, a secret smile on his lips as his fingertips finally graze his cheek where Beth's lips had been.

* * *

_**a/n Any thoughts for me ?**_


End file.
